


i am become death

by writing_addict



Series: The Miraculous Tales of Skathari and Mechanicat [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Miraculous Ladybug Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, BAMF Winry Rockbell, Death Threats, Gen, Kwamis Are Gods, OP Edward Elric, OP Winry Rockbell, Plagg is a bad influence, Supportive Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Winry Rockbell is Mechanicat, but in a good way, but its like my version of it lol, but this is more of a winry-centric fic so she seems the most op, but valid ones, king bradley is Somewhat Alarmed about the angry superhero who broke into his house, miraculous lore, more of black cat!winry and ladybug!ed, so like any well-adjusted superhero u decide u have to kill him, tfw when the ruler of ur country threatens ur childhood friend, tikki would not approve of any of this, xerxes had some miraculous heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addict/pseuds/writing_addict
Summary: Winry Rockbell is perfectly content to stay out of the way and let the military do their thing as long as they let Skathari and Mechanicat do theirs. She doesn't like them, sure, and getting shot by one trigger-happy soldier while transformed hasn't improved her opinion of them any, but as long as she can do her work and Ed and Al are (mostly) safe? She's absolutely fine.And then she finds out that the Fuhrer threatened Ed, and she's suddenly not fine anymore.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric & Winry Rockbell
Series: The Miraculous Tales of Skathari and Mechanicat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505633
Comments: 13
Kudos: 64





	i am become death

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! im back on my ml au bullshit and kinda just...banged this out over the course of a weekend. It's a bit messy and nebulous in the manga timeline, but I basically remembered that scene where the Fuhrer threatened to hurt Ed's loved ones when he tried to resign, went "oh what if winry found out in this au" and then kind of went crazy. it's also my first time writing wrath/king bradley's pov, so if he seems OOC, i apologize. i also apologize for winry being like, ridiculously overpowered. i have made few efforts to tone it down, but...eh. this is basically crack at this point.
> 
> also, lore!!! which has nothing to do with how miraculous ladybug actually works ig, bc...au? but basically there were heroes in xerxes, the miraculous were a thing, and father ofc knew about them bc hohenheim did. speaking of hohenheim, he's gonna play a pretty big role in the future of this au. enjoy!

Winry has always known that something was…fundamentally _wrong_ with their country’s leader. With the military as a whole, sure (she still has a _bone_ to pick with Roy Mustang for inducting a goddamn eleven-year-old into the State Alchemist program, though she doesn’t have a leg to stand on with her acceptance of the Black Cat Miraculous), but Fuhrer Bradley just feels _off._ Anyone who can order the genocide of an entire people and still walk around with a jovial smile on their face is twisted up in ways she can’t name, but the feeling of _strangeness_ only got worse when she became the Black Cat. It’s the equivalent of her fur standing on end when she nears him.

He’s not right.

He’s not even _human_. Can’t be. Even akumas don’t make her insides shake and feel like they’re freezing up and turning inside-out, don’t make her skin crawl like _that_. She’s Destruction and she’s deadly, but King Bradley—

King Bradley is a monster.

Still, she keeps her head down, per Plagg’s “advice”. The military do their thing, and she and Skathari do theirs. Skathari suggests they find a military liaison so they’re targeted less by idiots calling them dangerous vigilantes and trying to shoot them down (she still remembers the fiery pain of a bullet slamming through her arm, and her partner’s scream of rage and fear), offers Lieutenant Hawkeye as an option. It’s an excellent idea, and maybe Winry doesn’t trust the military, but she trusts Riza Hawkeye more than the rest.

She can’t consider Ed and Al part of the military. _Can’t_. They’re doing it for no reason other than the research opportunities it grants them, and besides, they’re… _different_. She knows how they operate, knows Ed doesn’t have a formal rank beyond State Alchemist and Al isn’t even really _part_ of it. She also knows that the man who brought them into it in the first place is keeping them out of the worst of it, and she can’t help but be grateful. Can’t help but hope that they never see the front lines of the Western conflict or are stationed near the chaotic Cretan borders.

She doesn’t pray much anymore. Not that she ever really believed in a god, but…well, when you have a tiny spirit of Destruction living in your apartment and eating your food and complaining about being forced to do anything (which she supposes is much like a real cat), you stop doing certain things. Like putting your fate in other beings’ hands.

She fixes Ed’s automail, works on new designs. It’s easier for them to get to Central than it is to get to Risembool, but she can’t help but feel bad—they already rarely came back, but with her working out here (even though it’s infinitely better for her day job _and_ masked… _activities_ ), they don’t get to see home much. She writes and calls Granny often, dutifully takes every fond scolding, keeps her fingers crossed that she won’t do something ridiculous like jump on a table and _hiss_ when she sees Den again. A year ago the notion would’ve been ridiculous, but _now_ …

She’s the Black Cat even in her civilian life. Sort of.

The physical changes that come with wielding a Miraculous are—interesting. According to Plagg’s (very abbreviated) explanation, the faster you click with a Miraculous, the more the physical side affects start cropping up. Skathari’s complained about shrinking at least a dozen times (he _is_ tiny, with a surprisingly delicate build for how strong he is—much like a real bug, honestly) and all the freckles that cover his cheeks. She’s rather pleased with hers, though: her canines extend a tiny bit into sharp fangs, her pupils like thin ovals instead of the usual circles (which looks unsettling, but _cool)_. Plus she’s _crazy_ flexible, which is cool for freaking Ed and Al out, even if she naps a lot more now.

Life is good, really. Exhausting, busy, nerve-wracking, but good.

And then—

Well. She can’t say that she was _told_ this without _lying,_ but she knows (from Plagg, who had apparently been looking for cheese—which was a terrible excuse, given how lazy he was and the fact that he’d have made _her_ go halfway across the city for it instead of wandering off to Central Command himself) that Ed tried to turn in his pocketwatch, that the military was planning to use him for something he couldn’t condone, that he was determined to find another way to help Al. She doesn’t know the details, really, doesn’t know what they’re planning or why they want Ed, but…

The Fuhrer _threatened_ him.

Or not _him,_ didn’t threaten him with bodily harm, didn’t say he’d kill him if he didn’t comply. No, he just sat there and smiled, and told Ed— _her_ Ed, her idiot of a friend ( _crush)_ who’d die for the people he loved a thousand times over, who couldn’t stand injustice, who was rough around the edges but had a heart of gold as true and shining as her partner’s, who was overflowing with _life—_ that he’d send Al off to the labs, to be investigated and tormented until they got what they needed and killed him. That poor Pinako Rockbell was so old, in that house all alone, and wouldn’t it be unfortunate if she had some sort of accident?

And _your mechanic is very sweet, Fullmetal. Surely you don’t want anything to happen to her. Central City is full of dangerous people, you know._

Sweet. _Hah._

Central City _is_ full of dangerous people—people she fights and stops on a daily basis. Because Winry Rockbell? Sweet, gentle, hardworking Winry Rockbell? The daughter of doctors, the best goddamn mechanic in Amestris (if she does say so herself), the best friend of Edward and Alphonse Elric?

Winry Rockbell is _Mechanicat._ She’s _one_ of those dangerous people. Maybe Winry Rockbell can’t fight the Fuhrer, can’t seek retribution for something she isn’t supposed to know happened, but Mechanicat—oh, Mechanicat can remind him exactly what it is to feel afraid. To feel _helpless._ Caught up in some great riptide and thrown into the deep end, _drowning_ in your fears and your failures.

She can make him feel _everything_ he made Ed feel.

Deep down, she knows she probably shouldn’t. She knows it’s not _really_ heroic. That there’s a high road and she should take it, that she should continue to support Ed as Winry and talk to him as Mechanicat. She knows that taking the fight to someone who is even less human than she is in the mask is _unwise_ —but when she brings it up to Plagg, he just scoffs.

“Duty, support, life—that’s the _bug’s_ thing, kitten. You wanna unleash?” White fangs stretch in a grin across black fur, and a thrill runs through her body, a whisper of warmth saying _You are famine, you are flood, you are Death in all Her forms and you cannot, will not be denied_. “I say tear him apart.”

Which is how she finds herself in an ornate office after dark, admiring a home that seems both tasteful and luxurious. Ed would probably adore the library she glimpsed while sneaking through the windows (honestly, they need better security; she knows she’s a superhero, so there’s a bit of a gap between humans and…whatever she is now, but really. Do they think reputation and a few guards will keep him alive if someone like her goes after him?), and she feels a bit bad for Mrs. Bradley. The poor woman seems genuinely sweet, and if she wasn’t about to threaten her husband, she might have stopped to talk with her or something, but…well, she’s got _work_ to do.

She wonders absently if the brothers would approve, if they knew. If Ed, so desperate to keep her out of the military’s sight, would be horrified at what she’s become with Plagg’s influence and the ability to be more than a footnote in history—or if he’d be proud. She knows Al is a bit of a fan of Mechanicat, and the thought makes her grin widen a bit as she rests her boots on the desk and reclines in the thronelike leather chair. The lights are off, for _effect,_ but she can see perfectly fine and hear even better, ears swiveling and twitching as booted footsteps come closer. Closer. Closer.

_Come on, little mouse._

Lights flick on, there’s a scrape of steel on a scabbard, and she lifts her gaze to a cold dark eye slowly. Insolent, even as the sword is leveled at her throat. She wonders if she’s channeling Ed a little too much right now, but shrugs the feeling off, lips curving in a lazy, wicked smile that shows gleaming fangs. “Hello, Bradley. Mind moving that out of the way so we can have a civil discussion?”

* * *

Wrath can’t exactly tell the hero exactly what he thinks of her without giving away who he _really_ is (though, judging by the cold, vicious look in those catlike blue eyes, she knows _something),_ so he sheathes his blade and arches an eyebrow at her. If asked by one of his infuriating siblings, he’ll be the first to say that the sudden presence of heroes in Amestris is _annoying,_ especially after Father went on and on about how precious and rare the Miraculous were, and how useful a Butterfly _villain—_ as if there are truly heroes and villains in a world like this—could be. He certainly didn’t expect the Ladybug and Black Cat to resurface, nor that both heroes would absolutely refuse to affiliate themselves with the military. It’s plainly clear that they will not allow themselves to be used, which is a pity. While Father’s chosen Butterfly wielder is adept, the Ladybug Miraculous is _powerful,_ requiring a user that is resourceful, bold, and creative to wield as well as this new _Skathari_ seems to. And the Black Cat…

The Black Cat is pure Destruction just as the Ladybug is pure Creation, or so the story goes. It takes, Father said once with a distasteful look, a _compassionate heart_ along with deep rage and a longing for freedom to use effectively. Rage and a hunger for power will do well in a pinch, but without that core of kindness, the Miraculous has no focus.

Mechanicat, unfortunately, has proven herself to have all three of the necessary qualities, acting as Skathari’s sword and shield and never losing a sunny smile as she speaks to the victims after a fight. Both of these heroes could quite easily put a wrench in Father’s plans, but finding their civilian identities to dispose of them is proving to be far more trouble than it’s worth. When Envy suggested that they simply kill them in the mask—not Pride or Wrath, obviously, given that they have human identities they cannot risk yet—Father fixed him with a cold stare.

_Homunculi are the next step in the evolutionary chain, better than humans. Miraculous wielders, however, are far_ more _than human, and far more than_ you. _They are the closest thing in this world to demigods, each wielding powers that defy reality, that defy the Truth. If any of you encountered and attacked a Chosen back in the age of Xerxes, you would face an inevitable defeat._ Icy eyes the pale gold of champagne had narrowed. _These new…_ heroes _are inexperienced, but they have already proven themselves adept in the wielding of their Miraculous. It would create a bigger spectacle than we can afford_.

Just like that, the discussion was over—and every homunculus had reclassified the new heroes as _threat_ rather than a mere _nuisance_. The heroes are so frustratingly self-righteous and determined (and fighting for _humans_ when they can just as easily become gods themselves, even the _Truth_ can’t bind them) that if they catch wind of the plan, they’ll invariably try to derail it and destroy them all. Wrath tries not to curl his lip in disgust at the sight of the cold, disdainful look in Mechanicat’s eyes—as if he’s the one that’s lesser.

He doesn’t show a whit of his irritation, doesn’t let the icy coldness of immortality and the knowledge that he can squash her like a bug the second the ring is removed flash in his eyes. He can already tell that she’s suspicious, that she thinks she knows something. It’s possible that she’s just confused or reckless, but he’s already dealing with a handful of fools that have figured out what he really is. Both are seemingly playing right into his hands, but humans are…unpredictable.

It’s one of the few things they have on homunculi, he admits to himself. Most of the homunculi refuse to recognize just how dangerous humans can be. Even Pride, despite living and working with them every day, despite having noticed for himself the unpredictability of humanity in Wrath’s wife, views it as yet another reason they’re lesser. They cannot decide on a plan of action and stick to it. They always have too many variables—and they never account for all of them.

And yet they keep winning. They adapt. Homunculi are able to survive anything, so they have no need to do so, but humans? Humans overcome the strangest of situations, rise from the depths of their own personal hells to try again. They _never stop,_ they fight for as long as their brief, flickering lives allow, and then the next generation comes back twice as strong. Of course, some are assets, easily manipulated, easily swayed by their own greed, but then he thinks of Mustang and the Elric brothers and he is not entirely sure that they’ll win this fight after all.

It’s not a productive line of thought, though, so he squashes it. Reminds himself that the so-called hero sitting in _his_ chair and looking at him with such contempt _isn’t_ human, and is thus even more dangerous than the rest. Even with the ring gone, she’ll be stronger, better, faster. Such is the way of the Chosen, according to Father, and Father has rarely, if ever, been wrong about these things. He’d prefer not to risk it either way.

“Mechanicat,” he greets after a moment, his voice steady and even as he watches her claws carefully. They’re real, and dangerous, and he’s seen them tear into akumas when her partner is hurt. The young heroine is easily capable of ripping out his throat. It won’t kill him, of course, but he’d rather not explain the bloodstains to his wife in the morning. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His gaze doesn’t move to the security cameras. The Black Cat is reckless, but smart, at least as smart as the Ladybug she fights beside. They’ll have already been taken care of.

She shrugs fluidly, tail swishing with a sort of lazy insolence. He’s reminded once again of those _annoying_ alchemists, of the Flame and of Fullmetal—Mustang with his disdain and vindictive delight in their failures thinly disguised as obedience, and Edward Elric with his blatant refusal to bow to any sort of authority, friendly or otherwise. “Well, my partner suggested a visit like this—to discuss a truce between us and the military, so we can both stay out of each other’s way. We handle akuma attacks and whatever instances of petty crime we find when patrolling, you take care of all the rest, etc. No one gets hurt, everyone gets a happy ending, three cheers for peace and all that.”

_You’re the Black Cat. You don’t want peace._ The Cat, according to his creator’s records, thrives in chaos, in disorder, comes alive with a cause to fight for and people to protect. If it’s peace she’s protecting, she’ll find herself dissatisfied. _At least, not from the military._

He doesn’t say that, though. Instead, he merely tilts his head, watching her with a sort of bright-eyed curiosity that he knows very well will only solidify her theories that he’s not what he seems. Something in him—Father’s voice—demands that he stop, that two sacrifices already know what he is, that a Chosen finding out (and one of the two most powerful, no less) will be disastrous, but he can hardly help it. Wrath is itching for a fight, even if logic and history dictates that he’ll lose. At the very least, he can turn it against the heroes, make them out to be dangerous, untrustworthy vigilantes who are out to destroy the country—or something similar. At most…

At most, he’ll be able to make one of Amestris’s new Miraculous Wielders bleed. A very fine trophy indeed. “Forgive me for saying so, but I doubt that’s what you’ve come for.”

She laughs. It’s not the laugh he’s heard his wife and “son” listening to on radio interviews, bright and fond while Skathari groans and jokingly complains to the interviewer about what he has to put up with from his idiot cat. It’s dark and quiet and still as death, and for a moment, he wonders if provoking her is as bad an idea as Father warned. He’s not dealing with Life right now, with Creation. He’s talking to the human incarnation of Death, of Destruction, and she is utterly pitiless. “Oh, no. I doubt my partner would condone any of this, in fact, but…” Another shrug, her blue eyes narrowing to slits. “My goal here is a bit different from his.”

“And what, pray tell, is that goal?”

Almost faster than he can track, she moves—vaulting fluidly up from the chair, using his desk as a stepping stone to get behind him; he turns, unsheathing the saber just in time to block the baton stabbing for his throat. Her lips pull back in a vicious, gleeful snarl, ears pinned flat against her skull as her true purpose reveals itself. Wrath nearly _smiles._ She’s here because of fury, because of rage, because of—

Well, her own wrath. _Whose fury is stronger?_ he wants to taunt. _Mine or yours, Black Cat?_ “Assassination doesn’t seem like your style,” he says mildly instead, the easy words goading her forward.

Her snarl widens into a terrible smile, and he curses the fact that his Ultimate Eye cannot track her movements, cannot see the will of the Miraculous and those they choose, barely sidestepping in time as her baton _extends_ and nearly slams into his chest. “Not an assassination, Fuhrer. A warning.” She steps forward again, again, and again and again he dodges and sidesteps. He’s not usually on the defensive, and he doesn’t find himself enjoying the position much.

“The Fullmetal Alchemist,” she continues, and he nearly raises an eyebrow in surprise— _how is she connected to the sacrifice—_ before parrying another blow. Neither of them are fighting at full capacity, simply…testing each other. She’s no great swordswoman, but he doesn’t have the usual advantage of his eye. “Is _mine.”_ Her voice drops to a low, vicious growl, like ice scraping over age-old stone. “ _Threaten him again, and I will tear your city down brick by brick.”_

_Death. Famine. Disaster._ Wrath has never feared any of these, has never had any reason to. Has never known _fear_ at all.

That changes in an instant, as bubbling dark energy seems to swirl around Mechanicat. _“If you try to use him against me, I will know,”_ she hisses, and there’s the echo of something older, stronger, a thousand times more vicious in her words—the same god that chose her to wield the Miraculous. One of the two gods that created the world, and the balance, and gave them to the Truth to watch over. _“So_ try _, Fuhrer Bradley. I would love nothing more than an excuse to tear out your throat.”_

Then the lights flicker, and—

She’s gone.

Wrath stares at the spot where she just was, before closing his eyes as the strange coldness that fell over the mansion lingers. His first instinct is to—well, to use the Fullmetal Alchemist against Mechanicat, to control her that way. She practically handed him her greatest weakness, after all. It’d be so, so easy, to use them against each other.

_But._

Mechanicat is already too close to figuring it out. Father will be angry enough about this as it is. And despite how easy it would be, he finds himself…hesitant.

He’s not afraid.

He’s _not._

**Author's Note:**

> hey, you reached the end! thanks for reading, and i hope you guys enjoyed this next installment in the adventures of skathari and mechanicat! the next one will either be a fic where the rest of the miraculous get given out (i have a whole team roster planned and im so excited!!!) or some fluffy romance between these two dorks. probably between mechanicat and ed (in those specific forms) bc im a sucker for "badass hero and prickly civilian who is soft for one (1) person only". leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed it, and i'll see you next time! <3


End file.
